


but will angels dance on the head of another pin?

by sandyk



Series: not that kind of party [1]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:50:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Kensi is lying in bed, hugging a pillow, about to be late for the work. She's embarrassed for herself. She needs to get up. (post ep for Ascension)</p>
            </blockquote>





	but will angels dance on the head of another pin?

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: No profit garnered, not mine. Title from Aimee Mann's Ballantine. For the kink_bingo square "loss of identity." Post ep for Ascension. Thanks to jf for beta.

There's some alternate universe, a Sliding Doors place, where Deeks lay on the hospital bed like Sam and was totally okay, a little battered, and shook, but okay. He took the right class, had the right gene, whatever it is that makes the difference. That Kensi got laid last night. That Deeks came to their rescue and made a joke on the roof. Then they stood in the bullpen and made awkward talk and jokes and he didn't nearly cry. After that, that Kensi drove Deeks home and at the door, she kissed his neck and pressed against him. They didn't have a good talk or really settle things, but they definitely fucked. They were passionate coming together and clothes were all over the living room and Monty took one look and ran to the kitchen area. 

This Kensi is lying in bed, hugging a pillow, about to be late for the work. She's embarrassed for herself. She needs to get up. 

It takes her twenty minutes to let go of the pillow and shake off her bed. She's due at nine thirty just like every single day but it's already nine fifteen. She should call. Someone will be worried. Probably. She goes for a run anyway, to burn off being the worst, a horrible person. 

She gets to work at ten thirty five. There's a box on her desk, Callen at his computer. Deeks's desk still has that awful box, still full of his stuff. Sam's desk is as organized as ever. She looks at her desk. "So now I get a box?"

"It's not for you," Hetty says, from behind her. Kensi doesn't jump or flinch but she thinks about it.  
"I believe Mr. Callen bought that, on orders from Mr. Hanna." 

"Yup," Callen says. "It's a Ninja. For Deeks."

"A tiny ninja --" Kensi isn't good at jokes. She thinks tiny mutant ninja assassins. Some other Kensi probably gets those. Maybe that girl made her baby last night. Kensi actually rubs her stomach like she's lost herself. Like her identity is another universe away. 

Her stomach growls and her chest is so tight. She's awful. 

"Top of the line blender," Callen says. "Even better than the one Sam has. For smoothies, he says. Or kale lemonade." Callen dramatically shudders.

"That I should bring to Deeks," Kensi says.

"I assumed, as did Mr. Hanna, that you would be stopping by there tonight," Hetty says. "Both he and Mr. Hanna are back at the hospital today as they should have been yesterday. But Mr. Deeks should be arriving home by 6:30. I think that will give you enough time to stop by this shop in Silver Lake." Hetty puts a business card on top of the Ninja box. "I've put in an order for some tea that he should find helpful for side effects of his medicine and for general peace and tranquility."

"Okay," Kensi says. Everyone else bought him gifts. "What did you get him, Callen?"

"Nothing," Callen says. He looks up at Kensi. His question is serious. "Do you think I should?"

"I didn't," Kensi says.

"Well," he says. "The pleasure of your company is a gift."

"To him," she says. She moves the box and the card to the floor. She sits at her desk.

"But I have a gift for you," Callen says, quietly. "Which is to tell you, since Hetty didn't, that you didn't need to be here today until noon. So, technically, you're early."

xxx

She gets to Deeks's place by 6:30. She doesn't see his car. She knocks on the door, but all she gets is Monty barking. Monty is on the other side of the door, begging her to come in. Kensi could pick the lock but tonight it would be an invasion. At another time she wouldn't think twice. She picks the lock and opens the door, but only holds it open so Monty can sit next to her by the door. She doesn't even look inside. 

She was jealous. She was a green eyed monster, like he said two days ago. She always get jealous. Nicole brought him soup when he was sick in bed, she thinks. She's jealous of Nicole, her easy solution to an uncomplicated illness. 

Illness is a term she remembers from being the very best fiancee in the whole wide world to Jack. Too often, she read, mental illness is stigmatized and misunderstood. It's not something you can heal by willpower alone. You don't just choose to be happy. It's not as simple as telling yourself you won't startle at every loud sound. She read that. 

She pets Monty and he rests his head on her thigh. Her arms hurt from the effort to not slap and claw at herself. She is thinking about Jack, dreading Deeks coming home like it's December and she's failing at everything and Jack is about to leave her. 

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to relax. She tells herself to be better. Monty whimpers. 

Deeks is finally home. His cheeks are more swollen and he has white bags from a pharmacy. Monty springs up and Kensi follows him. "Hey," she says. "I only opened the door to let Monty out. He knew I was here. He likes me." 

Deeks smiles on one side of his face and pets Monty. He gestures at the boxes.

"You're asking about the boxes," she says. "This one is a top of the line blender, called, guess what? Ninja. It's a Ninja blender. Sam bought it for you. That box has five different very expensive teas from Hetty. She says they're very good for relaxing and to ease your side effects. Which sounds like she knows what you've been prescribed, which is creepy, right?" 

He nods. 

"I'm not used to doing all the talking," Kensi says. "I hope you're better soon."

He mumbles something that sounds like "A day." 

"Don't even try," Kensi says. "Um, I didn't get you anything. I got Monty these doggie breath mints. They're also supposed to bring tranquility." She presses her lips together. She says, "I didn't realize you were such a good kisser."

He makes a face that clearly says "You should have." She loves his bravado.

She brushes off her jeans. "You want me to help you carry all this inside?"

He shakes his head. He has a little smile. He opens the door and carries everything inside. She says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

She pulls the door closed. 

Kensi went to a PTSD support group for partners. She wanted to learn better ways to help. One of the women was younger than Kensi, already a wife. She spent every meeting complaining. She couldn't have the babies she wanted. She was angry at her husband. She hated what her life was, she wondered why she was the one who had to deal with this. Kensi fumed every time the girl opened her mouth. She thought the group leader should have shut the girl up. 

Last year she'd looked the girl up on Facebook. They were still married, happy even. Her page was covered in pictures of cute fat babies. 

Kensi wonders if she learned the wrong lesson. She wonders if she's learned anything. She sits in her car and cries. This Kensi has this Deeks and she will do anything he asks. She can do it.


End file.
